Disclaimer:I am not J.K. Rowling if I was I probably would have ruined Harry Potter for everyone.
Lily Evans loved James Potter.
Lily didn't know when it started, but she woke up and it hit her. She didn't know whether she liked the fact; it just couldn't be helped. Like the fact she couldn't help but think of his sparkling hazel eyes, or his black messy hair. He was now stuck in her head, and she couldn't get rid of him. Couldn't get rid of his nice, caring smile, or his soft warm hands, and she didn't want too. Lily wanted – no needed James, and that was something she had no control over.
There was only a slight problem; one she didn't know how to deal with. Ever since Fourth Year he had bugged her for a date, and she not believing he genuinely cared had declined every time. Now when she wanted him to ask her out he stopped. They were in Seventh Year now, and Head Boy and Girl respectively and now convinced that he still didn't feel the same was forced to see him every day. He had matured and that only tortured her more knowing that he at first had done it for her, but she still didn't think he felt the same.
So there Lily Evans sat on her four-poster bed realizing she loved James Potter, and stuck deluding herself into thinking her love unrequited.
James Potter was tortured by Lily Evans.
At least that's what he thought to himself as he lay on his bed that night. "She must enjoy torturing him," he couldn't help but think. She was always there, smiling, laughing, looking at him with those pools of emerald green. The dreams he had when he fell asleep didn't help stop his urge to blush whenever she was around. He had stopped asking her out thinking she would never give him a chance.
This didn't stop him from fantasizing about her and her bright red hair. He didn't know how much more he could take of just seeing her every day. His heart would start pounding and he couldn't think straight; it was a wonder he wasn't always making a fool of himself. The very mention of her name sent his pulse racing, and now with her constant smiles sent in his direction it was a wonder he didn't explode. He would do anything for her; he had 'matured' for her, and she didn't seem to notice.
So James Potter lay on his bed staring into space, and stuck still thinking his love unrequited.
A/N: Wow first story! I would appreciate any constructive criticism you could give me, and please be kind! A review would be appreciated!